Meadow Display

The sun was warm on my body, a breeze cooling me as it flowed over my chest, down over my stomach and between my legs. My eyes were closed, but I knew he was watching me. I moved my hands over my stomach, caressing it slowly, and let them slide over my hips and down to the insides of my thighs, intentionally avoiding my swollen cock. God, I wanted to stroke it.

Opening my eyes, I saw the man above me, silhouetted against the blue sky, enjoying the show I was putting on for him. I smiled up at him and continued my slow exploration of my own body, the warmth of my hands mingling with the warmth of my sun-exposed skin.

I was lying naked in a meadow, flexible grasses flattened under my body, the meadow edged by surrounding woods. I had come through those woods ten minutes ago, knowing he was following me.

Earlier an urge had come over me. A familiar urge, though one I'd rarely acted on. Hot summer days brought it out in me. A direct gaze from a masculine face brought it out in me. An image of being free in a remote place -- brought it out in me. I'd left work early, changed clothes at home, and gone running.

Running clothes are skimpy enough, but I was pushing it. A cropped, sleeveless shirt. Ankle socks and lightweight shoes. Minimalist jockstrap, and high-cut shorts.

I'd driven past the forest preserve before. It began at the edge of town. The paths through its woods went on for kilometers, increasingly distant from civilization. Rock hills, tumbling streams, towering trees, and hidden animals observing silently. Raw nature.

Like everyone else in town, I expect, I'd heard rumors about strange deeds that went on in the forest. But especially I'd remembered the ones about men who had needs that wives and girlfriends could not satisfy. And that drew me to the woods. When I went running, my feet more frequently took me into the forest and along its various paths.

The rumors were about things that happened deep in the woods at night, but I was a day person. I wanted light, heat, and visibility.

I'd noticed him the last time I'd gone running along the path that followed the stream. A strongly built man leaning against a large boulder at a turn in the path, apparently enjoying the sun. Someone else who enjoyed the forest in the sunlight. He'd noticed my approach that last time, and as my running feet brought me along the path toward him, I had sensed him scanning me up and down.

"Hey," I'd said, as I neared the boulder and the turn. He'd said nothing, but his eyes had met mine, and I'd seen approval in his gaze -- and an instant, secret knowing, like he knew that my heart had started beating faster as I'd gotten closer to him and that a tingle was coursing through my body. In a moment his eyes had told me that he knew that running was not my only reason for being barely clothed in the woods. Or maybe I just imagined that he knew that.

I'd chickened out that last time and ran the long way home, not returning by the path along the stream.

But today I'd returned, the heat and full sun of day drawing me out. The entrance of the forest preserve was now a kilometer behind me, the path guiding my running feet alongside the stream, the boulder could not be much farther ahead, and I wondered about the man with the knowing eyes.

Ten minutes ago we'd noticed each other simultaneously. He'd been crouching down by the stream near the boulder, but he stood erect at my approach. I'd slowed as I came up to him, wanting a clearer sight. And I'd wanted to give him a clearer sight of semi-clothed me.

I kept moving but took in his blue jeans and lightly buttoned shirt, and noticed especially the calm smile in his eyes that was matched by the slightly upturned smile of his mouth. I turned the corner, passed the boulder, and slowed to a walk, knowing his eyes were upon me.

Follow me, I said to myself but secretly imploring him. I did not turn my head back to see if he was still behind me, until my feet brought me to this meadow, an open grassy clearing in the middle of the forest.

Without looking back I knew he was there. He had to be there. And I found a soft-looking place in the grass and undressed, kicking off my shoes, peeling off my shirt, slipping off my socks, feeling the grass underfoot. I paused a moment, but then pulled down my shorts until I stood only in my jockstrap, the sun caressing my body. Only then did I turn around to see that he had followed me and was only a few feet away, silently watching my performance.

What did I want? My need was strong -- to do something with a man, yes. And with this man. And naked, outside in the freedom of the woods.

Or maybe what exactly I wanted didn't matter. What did he want to do with me?

My cock was growing fast, with his eyes on me from so close. My jockstrap was too constricting now -- and what I wanted crystallized in me -- so I peeled it off and stood before him, fully naked.

I met his eyes briefly, and watched them as they moved over my body. I started moving my hands over my skin where his eyes moved -- stroking my chest, then my sides, then half-turning to let him see them glide over the cheeks of my ass, and then turning again to let him see them move along my outer thighs.

He kept his eyes on me during my show, and his own hands slowly unbuttoned his pants and lowered them just enough to expose his own cock.

My mouth watered at the sight of it, and my anus twitched, but I made no move toward him, and he made no move toward me.

Almost of their own decision, my knees relaxed and I sank to the ground, letting myself lay back fully into the soft grasses. The grassy ground was relatively cool on the backs of my legs, my ass, and shoulders. Some blades of grass tickled my skin. In contrast, the hot sun beat down on the front of my thighs, my stomach, and my face, and my dick felt especially exposed, sticking up fully erect and lit for his inspection by the high sun's streaming rays.

I closed my eyes but heard him move closer, until I could sense he was standing directly over me. I teased him for as long as I could, moving my hands over my body -- until my need was too strong, and as my hands -- finally -- grasped my needy cock and began to stroke it, the moan that escaped from my lips was echoed by a groan from his lips -- and I knew he was masturbating himself too while he looked down at me masturbating myself.

In the remote woods on a hot summer day, anything can happen.

I would not last long, I knew. The exposure, a man's eyes on me, my swollen cock in full view, the heat, his dick hard and his balls full and needing release, and the sounds of our wet stroking were too much to bear. I writhed on the grassy ground as I pulled hard on myself, stealing glimpses of him stroking his own just above me. I felt the sky and ground meet and flow through me -- and as I let my head fall back I heard his moan change tone sharply -- and felt the first splash of his hot sperm strike my skin, falling along an arc from my belly to my chest. That awareness -- He's coming on me -- sent me over the edge too, my own cock starting to spurt in response. A second splash of his come hit me on my chest and neck, one stray drop landing on my chin. I felt its liquid heat, there, just below my lips, and I wondered, irrationally, how long it would take until the sun dried it. I didn't want to wipe it off.

My pleasure waves subsided, and eventually I lay back limply on the grass.

After a minute, I raised my head slightly to look up at him. He was still looking down at me with that half smile curling his lips. Maybe he was looking at how his sperm had marked me. I could still feel the lines it traced on my skin, slightly cooler now, and looked up at the cock from which they had come. It was still impressively erect, and I wondered if he wanted more.

But all he said was "Hey," gently, and stuffed his cock back into his jeans. He re-buttoned them as he took a final look at me lying in the grass, his sperm on my skin now drying rapidly in the sun. With a knowing nod he turned away and retraced his steps to the woods, toward the path that went past the boulder and along the stream.

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